Three Days Grace
by amakasu toko
Summary: Draco Malfoy, known Deatheater, is condemned to the Dementor’s kiss after the war. Harry Potter cannot figure out why he is unhappy with the situation, but when he does, he concocts a plan that no one would have ever thought he was capable of...HPDM


**AN:** I'm still going to finish _Masquerade_, but because the story is much less angsty now, I feel the need to release some angst-frustration in the form of this story. Har har, I am such an angst fiend e.e; Anyway, going through some bad times, and this really helps keep my mind off reality. –Sighs-

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter or the songs I put in here. Boo hoo hoo D:

**Song: **It is the chapter title, and the band is the story title.

**Pairings:** Harry/Draco (weee!) Don't like it? Well bugger off :(

**Summary:** Draco Malfoy, known Deatheater, is condemned to the Dementor's kiss after the war. Harry Potter cannot figure out why he is unhappy with the situation, but when he does, he concocts a plan that no one would have ever thought he was capable of...HPDM

**Plan:** This is actually based and inspired from a beautiful HPDM video made by briana01 on YouTube. (Look up _(I Hate) Everything About You Harry Draco_...or I can send you a link if you request ;D)

Because this is based off of the song and fanvid, I will be dedicating each chapter to a song of Three Days Grace and it will follow the theme of the song. Much like this one! ;D

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**Three Days Grace – (I Hate) Everything About You**

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_Every time we lie awake  
After every hit we take  
Every feeling that I get  
But I haven't missed you yet_

_---------------------------------------_

In the quietness of the cloudy evening, Harry Potter lay wide awake on his comfortable mattress in the safety of the Gryffindor boys' rooms. There was naught but silence, absolute, languid silence drifting in the peaceful, lazy air. The dominant scarlet and gold embroidering the walls were darkened, sullied by the black night and corrupted by the remnants of the last battle. The brunette inhaled the crisp oxygen, memories of the war still rich within his swirling mind.

_Voldemort is finally gone, _Harry told himself. _I should be happy_.

The final showdown with the Dark Lord had occurred a mere two days ago and following the prophecy, the Boy-Who-Lived had successfully destroyed the many Horcruxes and slain Tom Riddle once and for all. Even at this very moment, the world was still rejoicing over the end of the infamous threat to their society.

Newly released from Madam Pomfrey's care, Harry had decided to recuperate his numerous injuries and maladies in his familiar Gryffindor home. Compared to many others, he had suffered minor injuries, only sporting several broken limbs, ribs, mind-numbing bruises and swollen wounds. His friends had not fared as well; Ron had suffered a long term Cruciatus and Hermione's right leg was near singed off.

As Harry listened to Ron snoring loudly on the bed next to him, a slow smile graced his slack lips. Funny that the Boy-Who-Lived, the one who killed Voldemort and was involved with the Light since he was born, would suffer one of the least injuries during the entire bloody war. Stranger still, not one of his injuries had come from Tom Riddle; rather, they had come from Draco bloody Malfoy.

_Draco._

The boy was a mystery to Harry; he hated him, that was granted, for he was one of Voldemort's top Deatheaters. Not only that, their childish rivalry had extended and survived even during the battle, as the blond Slytherin had confronted the boy countless times during the war. Now captured as a Deatheater prisoner, Draco had immediately been sentenced to receive the Dementor's Kiss by the end of the week.

_You should be happy_, Harry chided himself. _No more blooming ferret trying to hex your face off._

_You are right, I should, _he agreed wholeheartedly. _But I am not._

_Why?_

Draco Malfoy was somewhat of an enigma, he had not spoken throughout his entire stay at the Ministry. In fact, he had not even bothered to state any defense during the judgment by the Wizengamot members, who automatically pronounced him guilty on the spot. There seemed to be no use in torture or threats, as the boy remained adamantly silent, sitting grimly with his arms folded neatly across his thin, emaciated chest.

Wait.

The information was wrong. One of the kind Aurors asked the child if there was anything she could do to keep him comfortable before the execution and Malfoy had laughed. It was a flat, eerie sort of noise which sent shivers down those who had watched him. Their blood continued to freeze even as the crafty Slytherin choked two words from his dry, cracked lips.

"Harry Potter."

This was ignored by the Ministry, for the officials thought that the Malfoy had the nerve to mock the "savior" of the wizarding world. Of course, the bloody Ministry staff knew nothing of the depth of Harry's hatred with the platinum blond boy. There had to be something connected with his whispered words, something important.

But what?

Honestly, Harry didn't know what to make of the situation. Draco Malfoy was about to _die_, and all he mutters is 'Harry Potter'? Part of the brunette assured his mind that the bloody Slytherin was merely cursing him and taunting him with strange Slytherin sanity, but another part of Potter—his intuition—cried out to him.

_He is speaking to you,_ it whispered insistently. _He is calling for you._

_I don't care! _the boy whispered back. _I am glad that the git is finally getting what he deserves._

Harry swallowed back his guilt, knowing that he did not mean a single word he said. Strangely, a morose emptiness had taken the place of the exuberant joy that was expected to be in his body when he had heard of Draco's tragic news. It had plagued the Boy-Who-Lived, haunting him wherever he went and causing him to think of the bloody ferret. At this very moment, the blond's signature blue-grey orbs sat lazily within Harry's mind, winking sullenly whenever the brunette dared to close his eyes.

_Every roommate kept awake  
By every sigh and scream we make  
All the feelings that I get  
But I still don't miss you yet_

_------------------------------------------------------------_

Stifling another feeling of guilt, Harry grabbed his pillow and tried to suffocate himself to no avail. Within the encasing darkness, the blue-grey orbs blinked slowly, zooming closer towards Harry's vision. It filled his entire conscience, never stopping until all Harry could see were the gaping, black pupils. Slowly, a large wisp of blonde fell to cover the dull colors, lighting up Harry's mind with a fuzzy sort of glow.

Potter screamed into the pillow, clawing frantically at his ears to cover the sneering voice which whispered his name. He continued his loud shout, pressing his horrified face into the soft folds of fabric.

_I hate you, I _hate_ you!_ Harry yelled. _Go away!_

"Harry? Harry!" a voice shook the Boy-Who-Lived from his mental nightmare. "What is wrong, mate? You probably woke half the people in the entire blooming school!"

Harry looked despairingly at his red-haired mate and Ron stiffened. "Oh no. Bloody hell, Harry, is _He_ back?"

Potter sighed and shook his head, allowing his messy dark hair to fall into his stinging eyes. "No, Ron. I-I don't know what to say. I am sorry for making you move around. How are you feeling?"

Weasley grinned and stretched. "Just a bit sore, but I will survive. Let's visit Hermione at the infirmary tomorrow; I am sure Madam Pomfrey's stuffed her full of chocolate!" Harry laughed and nodded delightfully, motioning for Ron to scurry back to bed. Once he was sure that his best mate had returned to his prior state of slumber, Harry spelled his curtains shut and cast a silence charm over his bed.

_Only when I stop to think about it  
I hate everything about you  
Why do I love you  
I hate everything about you  
Why do I love you_

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Falling back sullenly onto the soft mattress, Harry sighed. Surely there must be a reason why Malfoy would be stalking his mind. He was fairly certain that it was no curse nor hex, rather it must be the mischievous part of his mind that had actually _liked_ bickering with the Slytherin. After all, no one could ever feel remorse over an enemy who had injured him so ofte-

Now _that_ was a thought.

It had never occurred to Harry that every single time he fought a battle with Malfoy on the field, the Slytherin would run his way through the Deatheater ranks to get at the Boy-Who-Lived. Of course, Harry had initially brushed it off as childish banter, but now that he delved deeper into the topic...

He suddenly realized that the young Malfoy made it his top priority to battle Harry, no matter what the consequences. In fact, there was more than one instance when Draco had brazenly rushed over to hex Harry, only to be punished dreadfully by Voldemort. Potter winced at the memories of the bloody Dark Lord casting various Unforgivables and nasty hexes to humiliate Draco in front of his own comrades.

_But why would he do such a thing?_

...That's right! The several times when other dangerous Deatheaters, including Antonin Dolohov, Fenrir Greyback, and even Draco's own father Lucius Malfoy had approached Harry, the young Slytherin had intervened with the battle to get a chance to nail Potter.

_Or is there more?_

The sudden realization shocked Harry like a wave of ice cold ocean water. Draco Malfoy had sacrificed himself in order to keep the Gryffindor safe from harm, ensuring that the Boy-Who-Lived would only be injured slightly to keep up the guise of an overzealous Deatheater.

_Draco Malfoy had been helping me all along!_

A brazen urge to rush into the Ministry and declare Draco's innocence was immediately squashed by the knowledge that no one would believe Harry. There was nothing that could prove Draco's selfless acts and his background did nothing to help soothe the situation. Aside from that, Draco's own Malfoy pride would prevent him from admitting anything; in fact, the conceited git might even deny Harry's theory!

Confirming his suspicions, Harry's mind took him back to the day before Malfoy ran to Voldemort's side; Malfoy's last day at Hogwarts.

_Every time we lie awake  
After every hit we take  
Every feeling that I get  
But I haven't missed you yet_

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_It was another night's worth of detentions, scrubbing cauldron after cauldron for Professor Snape. Harry sported a nasty welt on his cheek and Draco winced at the nasty gash on his temple. They had been caught hexing each other again after a particularly brutal argument. _

"_This is getting dull, Malfoy," Harry sighed, tossing another clean cauldron aside and settling on another in the musty dungeons._

"_Not as dull as your wit, Scarhead," the Slytherin sneered nastily, throwing a dirty towel at the Gryffindor. "You call that cleaning? Longbottom makes potions better than you can scrub."_

"_Sod off, Ferret," Potter snarled back. "I'm sick of arguing with you and getting detentions."_

_Expecting a biting remark, Harry looked back suddenly at the startling silence. Draco had stopped polishing, a vacant look pasted abnormally over his pale, pointed face. Finally noticing the curious Gryffindor, Draco's features transformed back into his irritable sneer._

"_Really, Potter?" he drawls. "I bet you will be begging for my Slytherin humor once you realize how much you cherish it."_

"_Cherish? Don't make me vomit." Harry ignored Draco's hurt look, a slight softening in his normally stone-cold eyes._

"_You'll see," the Slytherin prophesizes. "You never know how much you've taken something for granted until it is gone."_

"_What nonsense are you spewing?" Harry snapped, annoyed at Draco's sudden philosophizing. "Use that talkative energy for scrubbing potions, you lazy prat!"_

_Giving Potter a last glare, Draco turned back to his cauldron. Harry nearly missed Draco's last words, but his eager ears caught onto a mysterious phrase._

"_I'll miss you when I'm gone."_

_Only when I stop to think  
About you, I know  
Only when you stop to think  
About me, do you know_

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Harry shot out of his bed, sitting straight up and nearly toppling over. There must be some way to save Draco! He owed the blond a debt far greater than he had ever imagined. In addition, he came to his second awakening.

Draco was right.

Harry _would _miss the Slytherin. Already he was feeling a sense of nostalgia and homesickness at the mere thought of never exchanging heated glares or bitter remarks with the icy blond. Never seeing the blue-grey blaze into an icy haze of anger, or the slender fingers curl into tight fists...

Harry imagined the arrogant smirk and the hateful sneer the Slytherin would always grace him with. The way Draco's lips twitched in the precise angle—it was something he would never see again.

Why did the bloody git have to be one of Voldemort's top men? If only the Wizengamot had not sentenced him so quickly, if only the execution was not a mere three days away...Harry might have been able to plead for Draco's life.

For once in his seventeen years, Harry wished that the most lethal and important Deatheaters could be delayed their execution for some sort of questioning, giving Harry time to persuade the Wizengamot to let Draco go free. On the contrary, the highest ranked enemies were destroyed immediately to prevent rebellion. Harry ground his teeth in frustration.

_There must be a way!_

Potter came across a final resolution. Planning it in his head, the Gryffindor took a deep breath, wondering if he had finally gone mental. No, he was going to execute the plan; it was the only way.

But was it worth it?

_Draco's sacrificed too much for me, _Harry reasoned. _And for some reason, life seems rather dull without him._

Setting aside nearly seven years worth of hatred, the Boy-Who-Lived continued to prepare his plan, ensuring that it would work and safely save Draco. Harry spent his time idly, pretending to be resting in his rooms when he was checking nearest escape routes and boundaries of the anti-apparition wards. Finally, on the day before Draco's imminent death, Harry Potter set his plan into motion.

_I hate everything about you  
Why do I love you  
You hate everything about me  
Why do you love me_

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"Deatheater, someone is here to see you," the Auror spat to Malfoy, nudging the stoic figure by the heavy chains at the prisoner's wrist. "Make it quick."

Harry strode through the caged walls, stopping in front of the Slytherin. Draco said nothing, not even acknowledging Harry's presence. He continued to stare sullenly at the wall behind the Gryffindor, his mouth set tightly as if to guard a forbidden secret.

A secret that Harry knew.

"Mal-Draco," Potter spoke, switching nervously to a more familiar tone. He had hoped for a reaction from the passive Slytherin, but was not disappointed when he got none. Trying a second tactic, Harry continued to speak. "I know."

The result was spontaneous. Draco leapt to his feet, eyes blazing furiously and mouth bared to reveal pearly teeth.

"You know _nothing_!" Draco spat, voice hoarse and thick from disuse. "Leave, Potter, _leave!"_

Yanking ferociously on his bindings, the Malfoy clawed at the Gryffindor, dirty strands of gold falling around his smudged face. The Ministry had not treated the Deatheater well, and he had obviously suffered some severe traumas on his brief stay in Azkaban. Harry unflinchingly grabbed hold of Malfoy's fists, raising them above him and pressing the Slytherin to the wall.

"I _know_," Harry insisted. "And I _miss_ you."

The Slytherin calmed abruptly at his words, blue-grey eyes widening for a second before suddenly reverting into his old self.

"I'm touched, Potter," he drawled, clearing his throat. "Finally decided to play the good Gryffindor and make amends with your enemy before he dies?"

Harry glanced sullenly at the smirking Slytherin, words patiently leaving his set lips.

"I hate you; I hate _everything_ about you."

Potter had once again surprised Draco, and the Slytherin stared at his Gryffindor rival with wide eyes for the second time. Quickly regaining his composure, Malfoy narrowed his eyes and was about to make a biting retort when Harry cut him off-

"...So why do I love you?"

The words came out in a whisper, a hushed breath almost too silent in the stilled room. Draco stared slack jawed at the grim Gryffindor, unsure of what to say.

"I-I don't swing that way, Potter. Are you mocking me?" he managed to stutter, attempting weakly to snarl.

"I actually never realized my feelings until now," Harry laughed, ignoring the Slytherin's jibes. "Isn't that funny? Rivals for ages, now mutual love."

"I never loved you!" Draco shouted, struggling against Harry's hold on his arms.

"You lie," Harry breathed, hushing the Slytherin with his husky voice. "I told you; I've looked back on our past actions. We were little boys trying to pull on non-existent pigtails."

"You disgust me."

"It was hate at first, I suppose, but it turned into obsession. Before we knew it, obsession became a form of hidden love." Harry scrutinized Malfoy, causing him to sweat slightly from awkwardness. "You love me."

"No, I don't."

"You knew you loved me before I even knew anything myself; that was why you were always picking fights with me."

"I hated you, you prat-"

"No! You wanted to be near me; you wanted me to acknowledge your existence."

"If you don't remember, I left you for the Dark Lord!"

"You left to protect me; you went to Voldemort so you could watch over my actions and make sure I never got hurt on the battlefield-"

"I _wounded_ you!"

"So the other Deatheaters would leave me alone."

The Slytherin's mouth snapped shut, unable to deny any further. Neither admitting nor denying, Draco decided to try another tactic.

"You do not love me."

"I do."

"You know nothing about me!" he shouted, straining against the chains. Keeping one hand on his bound wrists, my other arm caressed his dusty cheek.

"I know enough to see through your exterior," I murmured into his ear, causing the Slytherin to shiver. "I'll see you tonight."

"I'm leaving for the Dementors tonight, you daft pra-"

I pressed my lips against his, marking my secret. "I'll see you tonight," I murmured again, and I turned around, walking swiftly out of the caged dungeons.

_I hate everything about you  
Why do I love you_

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Equipped with my belongings and the Marauder's Map, I snuck through the hidden corridors, cautiously making my way away from Hogwarts and into the prison which held Draco Malfoy. Armed with my Invisibility Cloak, I passed through the wards by following closely behind an Auror. Running quickly through the halls, I managed to reach the cell which held Draco.

The cell was empty.

I cursed silently, making my way to the transportation grounds; that was where Draco would be shipped to Azkaban. I found the Slytherin heavily bound, his chained legs restricting his walk and his movements slow and clumsy. An Auror prodded him violently with his wand, causing the boy to stumble.

"Get up!" the Auror sneered, deftly lifting the blond and pushing him forwards again. Once they step foot onto the transportation grounds—it allowed apparition, but was heavily guarded—I whisper two stunning spells, dropping the Aurors quickly. The others were immediately alerted and quickly began shouting hexes towards the surprised Slytherin. Grabbing him, I apparate—I had learned this during the war—and dragged him to the safest place I could find.

"What in bloody hell-" Draco started to rant. I tore the robe from my body and his jaw dropped.

"_Potter!_" he shrieked. "If the Aurors find out that the Boy-Who-Lived tried to kidnap a condemned Deatheater-"

"They will never find out," I promised the blond. Quickly undoing the chains which bound the Slytherin—I had learned the ropes from Tonks before she passed away—I sat him onto a chair.

"We are in Godric's Hollow," I told him hurriedly. "Although once the Ministry knows that I am missing, they will raid this place."

"So we're still going to be caught," Draco said flatly. "And they will accuse _me _of attempting to kidnap their precious hero." I smiled mysteriously, waggling my finger.

"I'd like to invite you to my apartment in Muggle London," I said grandly, watching the Slytherin's mystified expression. "I have already prepared everything, including a copy of your wand. However, I didn't have any of your clothes, so we will have to buy some when we reach our humble abode."

"Ho-how did you know what my wand was?" Draco asked astonishingly.

I smirked. "You forget, Draco, that being obsessed rivals made me know everything about you." The Slytherin frowned, crossing his arms over his chest.

"How can you trust me so easily?" he demanded. "I could most likely to waiting for you to return my wand, kill you, and then run off to form a renegade band of Deatheaters."

He had voiced the distressed cries of the sensible conscience in my mind, but the underlying confidence in my intuition blanketed the noise to a dull din. "We love each other," I bluntly told the Slytherin. "I know we do."

"Stop saying tha-mmph!"

I kissed Draco, tracing a tongue over the Slytherin's cold lips. He resisted, raising his arms up to push me away. I persisted, and soon enough, Draco's lips began to soften and yield to mine.

We languidly kissed for a few minutes, parting only when we ran out of breath. Gasping, Malfoy cried, "Damn your Gryffindor brashness! You are bloody lucky that you were right about me, Potter, I could have killed you!"

I pressed my lips to Draco's again, relishing in the feel of his arms coming around my neck. "Shall we go?" I whispered to him. He nodded fervently, and we apparated to the outskirts of the wizarding community. Looking back towards the magical society, we shared a secret smile, knowing that our lives would never be the same again.

Tentatively clutching each other's frozen hands, we turned away from Diagon Alley, walking our way through Muggle London and into our new world.

"I never thought you'd ever acknowledge my intentions towards you," Draco murmured to me, a small smile brushing his dirty face. Stopping to rub some of the grime away, I smiled back.

"Neither did I, but I suppose I'm not such a thick-headed Gryffindor after all."

"Well said, Po-Harry, well said."

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**AN: **This could be done as a one-shot, but since I have more outlined, if people would like to see a full blown story (I've scheduled about six chapters), I encourage you to tell me: ) Also, this story was strange, since I am so used to typing in first person (my two main stories are in first person!) and present tense. So it was like...woah...past tense O.O; Not to mention this story is also a rant to express my frustrations and faults at some problems I have :X Hope you enjoyed it!

**Next Chapter (Maybe):** Harry and Draco think they know each other...but do they? Problems arise in Muggle London and Harry begins to miss the wizarding world...


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